The tree,
Standing from its endless roots,
With his immense arms reaching the infinite,
Towards the cosmic universe of my ancestors.
Inter-connected to the divine world of gods and stars.
I see each brunch of the tree as my uncles and unties,
My big sisters and brothers,
On top of them rest smallest brunches,
They are my cousins and friends,
And bigger nephews and nieces.
The babies smile from the top of its crown,
They are the smallests leaves,
The newest flowers of the family,
Blossoming in bright blues and oranges,
Hanging from the top of the proud tree of life.
Sometimes I see my father under the rain,
I see him lonely and thoughtful,
Watching in silence to the different generations that run in his entity,
The sky blows soft breeze of peace.
And the tree wishes wise legends to the forthcoming blooms.
On the base of the tree trunk,
I see my grand fathers and grandmothers,
For ever embraced, resting inside the womb’s of mother earth,
I see the purple colour life and death,
Bridging the roots of this tree,
Forever in the vast extended territory of this earth.
